“Mr Weston. Oh my goodness. You are home early. I can explain. He had a tantrum. You know how stubborn he gets during therapy. He kept thrashing and I did not want him to fall so I just secured him for a moment. That is all. I was keeping him safe.”
Calvin did not look at her. He walked straight to Reese. The rope scratched his palms as he fumbled with the knots. His hands shook. He smelled fear on his son’s skin. Sweat and tears. The scent transported him to the delivery room ten years ago when he first held Reese and whispered promises into soft newborn hair.
It will be joy. It will be safe. I will protect you.
Talia took a step closer. “Sir. I did not mean harm. He just gets dramatic. He cries over nothing. You do not understand how exhausting his needs can be. I have given up my whole life for this job. You cannot imagine what it is like.”
Calvin cut through the last knot and pulled Reese into his arms. The boy’s breath hitched. He buried his face in Calvin’s shirt.
“Do not speak to me,” Calvin said softly. The softness carried weight like stone. “Not one more word.”